Smile Again
by Stetnee
Summary: Heero and Duo separated after the war but Heero can't seem to get Duo out of his head.


Note: I don't own Gundam Wing, though who doesn't wish they did?  
  
I was cleaning out my hard drive when I came across a couple of fics that I never posted. At least not here. I wrote this one a LONG time ago for a songfic contest. The assignment was to write a fic conforming to the given song, in this case "Goodbye Mr. Postman" by BWitched. ==============================================================  
  
/Angel, I can feel it's not you /Angel, I wish it were not true/  
  
What is this? I've never felt anything like this before. It's only been a month since peace finally came for good. Only a month since I've seen him. But I miss him. I actually miss that smile. God, that smile. The one that is so full of life and happiness at times that I feel like there must be a heaven and he must have come from it.  
  
I kissed him. I, the trained professional pilot and killer, kissed the self- proclaimed God of Death. Why? I have no friggin' idea. Something just came over me. And what's worse - I don't regret it. I enjoyed it. He enjoyed it. We both wanted it.  
  
Now, a month apart from him, I find myself missing him. Wanting to be back with him. Wanting him to be in my arms. Wanting to be in his arms. Wanting to kiss him again I even went so far as to write to him What the hell is wrong with me?  
  
/And as I walk to the beat of my heart inside /I feel like letting go/  
  
Something else, a logic that opposes the strange, good feeling, tells me that it was a fluke. A one-time thing that I had been alone in wanting more of. The voice in my head, the trained, logical soldier, voices his opinion that I should forget about Duo - the war is over and he has moved on. I shouldn't dwell on it.  
  
But my heart, something I'm not very used to thinking with, tells me otherwise. It responds that I need to wait. To be patient and meanwhile fills my head with the memories.  
  
/Oh darling now in my dream you'll be tonight so/  
  
I go to sleep, curling up in my bed, snuggling into the pillow and pretending it's him. My heart wishes so badly that it was him. I met up with him so many times during the war, always brushing him off with a mocking eyebrow. He was just so foolish. We were at war! And he was cracking jokes. At the time it ate away at my nerves now all I want is to hear one of those sarcastic remarks. Maybe it would ease this tenseness in my neck.  
  
/Oh Mr. Postman /Give me a sign/  
  
This is not like me at all, why am I doing this? Why am I feeling this? Foolish, my brain tells me. I'm being stupid, waiting here, thinking that maybe he would write me. Waiting on my apartment buildings front stoop, watching for the mailman. I'm so stupid sometimes.  
  
/Tell me you've a letter to make me feel fine /Oh don't you know I am waiting here for you/  
  
I think about him, about what he's probably doing. Probably laughing at something. I know that there is more to him than the blithe exterior; I know that there is pain and darkness beneath all that. And something in me wants so badly to help. His smile alone has helped me in so many ways. I wish I could return the favor What's wrong with me?  
  
/Tell me it will be here tonight/  
  
But nothing comes and I sit on the stoop until it's too cold to bear anymore. He doesn't feel the way you do, says the voice, why are you being so ridiculous?  
  
/Baby it's the way that I feel /Baby my heart it won't conceal/  
  
When I return to the warmth of my empty apartment, I head to the bathroom and stare at my stiff form in the mirror. I don't recognize myself. It's only been a month and I have changed just by missing him. Mostly I appear the same, but my warped eyes convey a whole new look to my face; they are jaded and depressed, full of exhaustion and trivial worry.  
  
Gaping at my reflection, I remember that night we actually kissed. That night I did something I never thought I would do period, much less with him. It didn't go further than that. I don't think that I could have handled it. He had stolen one of my tools while I was working on my Gundam and I was just trying to get it back though now thinking of it, jumping on top of him and pinning him to the ground wasn't the best idea. Considering that it was Duo. I should have seen it coming. I had his arms held against the dirt and he suddenly stopped laughing, leaned up and kissed me. Oh, no, but it didn't end there. What shocks me more is that I kissed him back. Something this feeling, whatever it is took over me and I couldn't help it. This fact also disturbs me. I lost control of myself to an emotion - and what's more to an unfamiliar emotion.  
  
Its true, I try to follow my emotions when I don't have something that needs to be focused on, but it's just that this emotion I have to admit it scares me. And it's Duo, of all people. A fellow pilot and comrade. Why am I so confused?  
  
/And as I walk to the beat of my heart inside /I feel like letting go/  
  
Something, that something that wants so badly to be with him again, won't let me forget. Won't let me ignore it. Won't let me get past the memory of his lips against mine.  
  
Now I can't even remember hurling my fist at the mirror, but the broken shards lie recklessly across the sink and counter top. My hand hurts. It's not alone in the feeling. The voice is back and it's yelling at me to stop being so idiotic. I guess that's what made me smash the mirror into a million shards. I have been on my own and alone for as long as I can remember (Dr. J or Lowe don't really count as companions) but something in me reaches out now not wanting to be alone anymore. Wanting to be with someone with Duo.  
  
/Oh darling now in my dream you'll be tonight/  
  
Sleeping alone again. I dream tonight, wishing and willing him to come to me. Wishing and willing the pillow to grow a braid and a heavenly smile. I can't even bear to think of that smile.  
  
/Oh Mr. Postman /Give me a sign /Tell me you've a letter to make me feel fine/  
  
I wait on the doorstep again. All I want is one little letter. Any response, just to know that he got my letter. One piece of paper to prove the voice wrong. To prove to all of myself that I'm not being foolish, that I didn't feel something where there was nothing. The damn mailman grins at me as he approaches. It's nothing compared to Duo's. He fills the boxes along the wall, and I watch, patiently waiting and hoping. He turns and offers me to take my mail directly and I do, glaring at the stout man as he leaves to finish his rout.  
  
/Oh don't you know I am waiting here for you /Tell me it will be here tonight/  
  
Glancing at the return addresses on each of the envelopes, I determine that none of them are from whom I want them to be from. I hate the fucking mailman. I return to my apartment disappointed and oddly depressed. I know that Duo wouldn't come to me by mail, but I still hate the fact that I'm returning to my bed alone.  
  
/Oh tonight /He's in my heart, in my soul/  
  
I tore my bed apart during the night, tearing the sheets from the mattress and knocking the pillows to the floor. I couldn't help dreaming of him and aching for his touch. When I wasn't painfully dreaming, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking of him. My hand snakes up to brush my lips. God, I want so frickin' badly to feel him again. To have him kiss me, touch me, smile at me God, to see that smile again If only I could see him again. Be graced with his presence once again. Have my soldier heart warmed by him again everything would be better.  
  
I'm exhausted now, having not gotten much sleep. That being the case, I abandon the routine I have developed and finally realize that the voice in my head was right. I felt something that wasn't there and for the past few months I have been dwelling on something simply ridiculous.  
  
I lie on the couch and try to force myself to sleep, but a knock on the door interrupts my attempts. Mumbles and curses escape my lips as I open the door to see the postman there with my mail. He never comes into the building to deliver the mail, and never personally. My eyes float down to the envelope in his hand. I think I've stopped breathing.  
  
/And oh Mr. Postman /At last it's arrived/  
  
"I thought you might want this right away," I hear him say, not totally aware at the moment that I have the letter in my hand and have just rudely closed the door in his face. My eyes watch as, like slow motion, my hands tear open the envelope and remove the letter within.  
  
My heart is beating in my throat, about to jump out of my chest. He wrote back. I read the note, scanning the familiar handwriting and taking in the information. My heart silently mocks the doubting soldier within as my eyes read the sincere words. He misses me as much as I miss him. He wants to be with me.  
  
/Here I have a letter I know he's alive /Oh don't you know there's no more waiting here for him/  
  
The letter is now in my pocket and I find myself running through the apartment, grabbing my jacket when I find it on the back of the computer chair.  
  
/Now I won't write/  
  
Rushing back into the living room, my hand snatches my keys.  
  
/Now I won't write,/  
  
I look down at the envelope, at the address written in the corner. I'm outside my door now, hastily locking it.  
  
/Now I won't write/  
  
I practically soar down the stairs and I can't even remember putting on my shoes - but they're on. And I'm out the door, speeding past the disgruntled mailman and unlocking my car.  
  
/Now I won't write 'goodbye'/  
  
As I jump in, ready to go find the one who makes me so happy, not ready to let the voice win, not ready to give up happiness for another time, I wave a sincere 'thank you' at the postman.  
  
/Goodbye, Mr. Postman/ 


End file.
